


cute boys don't cure depression

by qindery



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qindery/pseuds/qindery
Summary: ten's been struggling, and all he needs is someone to listen.[ please DO NOT READ if you are sensitive to strong descriptions of depressive thoughts and the actions that come with them ]





	cute boys don't cure depression

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this while in a bad place and needed to get my emotions out. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: this is in no way romanticising depression - in fact it's the opposite.

ten sits and watches as his life begins to crumble. he stares, motionless, ahead as everything falls apart and his insides begin to decay - begin to turn grey and charred, losing bits and pieces with every step he takes. he starts to lose feeling somewhere along the line, starts forgetting what it is to be _him._

_who is ten?_

things don’t feel like they used to. they feel numbed, sometimes laced with a bitter undertone that leaves an unpleasant ache in his bones. he’s left feeling drained, mind unable to grasp onto anything, simply floating in a grey mist of discomfort. 

it’s not like he’s on the verge of tears constantly. no, he just feels as though there’s a large, empty, pitch black cavern inside his chest, that’s slowly eating away at his entire being. it’s sucked the light out of the world, the fun out of old hobbies, the excitement and joy out of being with people he loves. it’s turned the world into one menial task after another, the days blending into one until he wonders what the point of it all is. 

he’s tired, but for a reason he’s not aware of, he keeps trudging on. 

*

ten gets an A in his final assignment, his personally choreographed dance receiving glowing praise from his teachers, and he knows he should feel proud, happy, excited - he should feel _something_. but he doesn’t. ten doesn’t feel a thing as he stands there and forces a smile onto his lips, tries to convince everyone, including himself, that he’s happy with his hard work. 

that night he sits with his friends who insist on celebrating his victory, him having come top of their class. he tries his best to laugh and joke along with his friends, tries to be witty and playful; his usual self. but everything feels forced. he feels like a wax doll, face being forced into each joyous expression, but the light never reaches his eyes. 

he can’t remember the last time it did. 

*

ten’s at dinner with his friend group, watching each of the couples and recalling how they began to pair off sometime after their group formed. first it was xuxi and sicheng - no one was surprised there. they’d been glued together from the moment they met. ten had been happy for them, he remembers it vaguely, feeling warm, the smile coming easily. it seems so unfamiliar and foreign now that he thinks back on it - he can’t recall how he mustered up the emotion. it’s not something he thinks he’s capable of feeling anymore. 

then it was doyoung and jungwoo. this was a less expected pairing, but not overly surprising. doyoung had always had a soft spot for sweet jungwoo, and it was hard for _anyone_ to not like doyoung even just a little bit. ten remembers when they announced they’d begun dating. he remembers the warm feeling he’d felt for xuxi and sicheng tickling at the very depths of his insides, but with something contaminating it now. it was less sweet; had a bitter edge to it. he still smiled, though this time his cheeks felt stiffer, and he couldn’t meet doyoung’s eyes. 

he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him at that time. a bad day, maybe?

but then it came to johnny and taeyong, a pair that should have been expected, but was, for many, the most surprising of them all. johnny flirted with everyone, but that was just his personality. he was sweet, and could make your insides turn to goo in seconds if you didn’t keep your guard up. taeyong was the same though, a total sweetheart, even if a bit bossy and uptight sometimes. johnny’s laid back attitude seemed to balance him out though, and no one could deny that they were a pretty perfect pairing. 

this time though, despite johnny being and old, and particularly close friend, ten didn’t feel that warmth in his chest, he didn’t even feel a tickle. that bitter tinge had taken over and all he felt was a bad taste in his mouth. something in his stomach churned and reached up the back of his throat, clamping down on his vocal chords and expanding in his throat. he choked on any words he might have come up with to say, any congratulations that he wanted to offer. it was all cut off by what felt like a snake, thick and hot in his throat, reaching down to his stomach and threatening to make him vomit. 

he wanted to be happy for them, for all of them, but something had begun to stop him feeling that way. 

*

ten’s laying in bed, eyes trained on the ceiling, and he begins to wonder just how bad it would be if he weren’t here at all, if he could simply log out, or delete his account with life.com. he doesn’t think he particularly wants to _die_, but he thinks he wouldn’t mind not being here, not being alive. things don’t really seem fun anymore, and everything just seems to be a chore, rather than a growing experience, or something to enjoy. 

he’s not sure he even remembers what joy feels like. 

things are taking more effort than their worth, and the heavy feeling in his chest is constant now, that lump in his throat that writhes down into his belly never really goes away. sometimes he wishes he could just cry it all out and feel better again, but he doesn’t even cry that often anymore. he doesn’t even feel sad. he just feels empty. 

he thinks he’d rather feel sadness and despair than this emptiness he’s plagued by.  
ten pushes himself into a sitting position, eyes, heavy lidded, training ahead of him on his bedroom wall now. there’s a flyer hanging there on his bulletin board that he pinned up at the start of the year. he thinks an ambassador for a college society handed it to him in the quad - it says something about friends, and their importance in mental health. 

reading it, he scoffs. what selfish person would bother their friends with their misery? he’s thought of it once; trying to speak to johnny, or taeyong about it - about feeling the way he does. but, when he’d realised how selfish that would be. to put his problems onto his friends who had enough of their own to deal with - he’d never resort to it. if ten was anything, he was a good friend. good friends protect their friends from negativity, which ten is determined to do by keeping his ridiculous problems from his friends. they don’t need to worry about him when they have work and relationships to worry about themselves. 

with a deep sigh, he swings his legs over the side of his bed and heads off to his tiny bathroom, going to run a bath. it’s the only place he can seem to feel anything at all these days. 

*

ten passes through the summer break, and finds himself wondering how he made it the whole way through unscathed. he remembers very little of his summer. he _does_ recall seeing the pictures his friends posted on their vacations, xuxi and sicheng going to paris, doyoung and jungwoo spending a fun filled fortnight in kyoto, and johnny and taeyong going to visit johnny’s family in chicago. he remembers thinking about how he should feel happy, or even, at least, jealous. he should feel _something_. but no, he doesn’t feel anything but heaviness. 

so, he returns to college for his final year, wondering whether it’s even worth the effort when he doesn’t know what he wants to do afterwards, if he even wants to do anything anyway. everything seems like it’s leading nowhere, like it’s a waste of time and he’d be better of sleeping, so as to escape the numbness that consciousness brings with it. 

getting back into classes and practising helps keep his mind off it for a couple hours a day, but he soon realises in putting his time and effort into focusing on his dancing, he’s neglected to check in with his friends. it’s been a couple weeks since he’s had a substantial conversation with any of them and he wonders whether they’ve finally forgotten about him. 

but no, he finds texts he’s forgotten to reply to after opening them from over the past week or two, each sound increasingly more worried, and he breathes a sigh. he can’t even keep friendships right. he’s gone and worried his friends, when that was something he always prided himself on not doing over the past year or so as the numbness had begun setting in. 

but, as he stands there with his thumbs hovering over the keys on his phone, he wonders what he’d even say if he replied. so, he doesn't. he runs away from the problem he’s created and begins to avoid them. out of _shame._

he knows taeyong’s been looking for him, he thinks a week later, when he spots him at the other end of the corridor, dark circles under his eyes. for a moment he feels something - he feels _guilty_. it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess that the culprit of the dark circles is more than likely ten himself, but he doesn’t make his way over to apologise. he turns and ducks into a bathroom nearby, hiding in a cubicle for the next fifteen minutes until he can be certain taeyong’s moved on. 

he just doesn’t know what he’d say to him. he doesn’t want to worry him anymore than he already has. 

*

the trees have lost their leaves by the next time ten speaks to any of his friends. 

it’s not taeyong who manages to catch him, though. it’s doyoung. ten bumps into him by chance outside a coffee shop in the little shopping area beside campus, and before ten can scurry off back into hiding, he’s pulled into the coffee shop and over to a table. doyoung asks where he’s been, and why he’s been ignoring their texts. 

ten’s not sure what to say, so he shrugs, eyes trained on the lid of his coffee cup. 

doyoung tells him they came to look for him at his dorm multiple times (ten knows, he heard them knocking and calling through the door - he never answered) and ten mumbles that he’s been out a lot at the studio, practising his choreographies.

but doyoung’s smart, and by now it’s become obvious to all his friends that he’s intentionally avoiding them. he’s not sure what to say as an excuse though, and simply stays silent, hoping they’ll come to their own conclusions and just leave him be, so they can stop having to worry about him. 

“we’re worried about you ten. you’ve been different… _off_, for a while now, and now you’re isolating yourself. we want to help you, but you have to talk to us. don’t just shut us out.” 

if only ten could believe that they wanted to exert energy, and spend precious time on _him_. he’s not going to let his friends waste their time on him, not when he knows he’s a lost cause. 

“i’m alright, i’m just stressed. busy with assignments and stuff.” it’s not a lie exactly, he _is_ busy, but he’s not sure he’s got enough functions in his body to feel stressed anymore. stress would mean he was worried about not doing well, but he’s not sure he can worry anymore either. 

doyoung, being the king man he is, keeps trying. ten wishes he could feel thankful, but he just feels guilty again. doyoung’s wasting his time. ten can’t be fixed. 

*

it’s nearing christmas when ten meets the boy with the kind smile and warm gaze. he’s in the studio one afternoon, practising for his upcoming assessment when the boy enters quietly. ten, spotting him in the mirror simply ignores him and continues to the end of the dance, not bothered by being watched. 

“sorry, i was just waiting for my friend. he said he’d be starting practise around this time, but i guess i’m a bit early.”

“it’s fine. i don’t mind being watched.” ten replies, grabbing his water bottle, he takes a moment as he drinks to look over the boy. there’s something about him that exudes a safe sort of warmth, making ten feel almost calm. he’s almost like a steamed milk and honey drink personified in human form. 

“you dance beautifully.” the boy says, his smile looking so easy that ten finds himself jealous. he wishes he remembered how to smile. the compliment isn’t one he’s unfamiliar with - he knows he’s a good dancer, but he’s begun to wonder what worth there is in that these days. 

“thank you…” he says, sliding his back down the wall to sit beside his bag, eyes trained on the boy, who slowly, and somewhat stiffly, sits down as well. 

“i’m kun, by the way. i’m a friend of sichengs.” ten vaguely remembers hearing sicheng mentioned the name before, but he knows he’s never seen kun - he’d have remembered someone like kun. 

“oh really? i’m ten.” 

“ten? sicheng talks a lot about you.” there’s something in his eyes that shines with a certain something that makes ten curious. he wonders what it is, but he can’t find the motivation to ask - he doesn’t need to know, and he’ll likely forget he even wanted to ask later. 

“hopefully not _all_ bad things.” 

kun laughs, and ten finds himself frowning as something tightens in his chest. it’s uncomfortable and makes him want to run away - so, being the typical coward that he is, he clears his throat and shoves his water bottle in his bag as kun replies, “not at all. only good things.”

“well, that’s nice of him. i have to go now, but i’ll see you around. nice meeting you kun.” he says softly as he stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the door as he speaks. kun seems taken aback at ten’s abrupt departure for only a moment, but ten spots his reflection in the mirror as he pulls the door open. 

he has a knowing, almost sad smile on his face, and it makes ten feel naked. 

*

the next time ten meets kun it’s a few weeks later and ten’s sat under a tree in a park close to campus, but far enough away that his friends are unlikely to stumble upon him. 

“ten? fancy seeing you here.” a silky smooth voice catches ten’s attention, and his head snaps up, eyes shifting from his book to the source of the voice. 

there stands kun in a pale blue puffer jacket, a woolen turtleneck peeking out from beneath it. his cheeks are rosy from the cold and there’s a matching pale blue hat with a bobble on his head. something in ten lurches, and he feels the urge to run away, but not because of fear, or dread - but because kun seems to make his fingertips tingle in a way he’s unfamiliar with. 

he’s felt numb for so long that anything unfamiliar makes him want to hide away. 

“kun? what are you doing here?”

“i like to come here for walks sometimes. isn’t it a bit cold to be reading outside?”

ten supposes he’s right. he’s bundled up in multiple layers though, so only this fingertips, in one pair of rather thin gloves, are currently feeling the cold. 

“i suppose so, but i don’t mind.”

“do you mind if i sit with you?”

“i- uh… no, you can sit.”

ten supposes, as he comes to think back on this later, is the moment things began to change for him. 

*

ten and kun talk that day for longer than ten thinks he’s talked in months. he’s not sure how kun manages to get so many words out of him, but he supposes the cold kept him frozen in place long enough to not run off before kun could get him to take part in a conversation. 

they exchange numbers, even though ten’s sure he won’t ever message kun, even if kun messages first. not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s not sure why he should bother kun - it’d be a lot kinder to simply ignore kun and make him give up on ten, so he doesn’t have to bother with him more than he already has.

but, much to ten’s surprise, he finds himself replying to all of his messages. something about kun being new, someone who’s not watched him go from who he was over a year ago, to the person he is now, that makes it easier. he doesn’t feel as though kun’s looking at him weirdly every time they meet in person. 

so, a friendship begins to blossom. 

it doesn’t really help though. ten knows how the stories go. depressed person meets cute boy and falls for him and magically the depression goes away. yeah right. cute boys aren’t magical, and he knows it. even if kun is cute, ten knows to think that anything could come of his supposed cuteness would be foolish. he’s probably straight, and ten knows he’d never want to burden kun with his affections anyway, even if he wasn’t straight. 

ten still feels numb a month later - proof that cute boys don’t cure depression. 

but he does consider kun a friend now. kun’s been in his dorm room, has stayed for dinner, has been to ten’s favourite coffee shop with him, and he seems to know ten’s routine better than ten does himself. 

but the one thing ten would say _is_ pretty magical about qian kun is his trustworthy aura. somehow, after a month of getting to know kun, ten feels like he’s the only person he could ever talk to about how he’s feeling, because somehow, in some way, he feels like kun’s slippery, made of smooth plastic, while the rest of his friends are made of chewing gum, or tacky glue. everything he tells his other friends will stick to them, and if he gives them something to worry about, that worry with stick right to them, and it’ll be his fault. 

but with kun, he can tell him something and watch it process, then slide right off. it’s not as though kun doesn’t care, because he clearly does, but whenever ten gives in and lets him in just a fraction, lets something small about his feelings slip out, kun seems to take hold of it, smile, gently caress the problem, taking note of it, before skipping it like a rock into the ocean, and standing to watch it float away over the horizon. 

*

after two months of friendship with kun, ten finds himself sat on his bed in his dorm room beside kun, tears on his cheeks from the first time he’d cried in many months. kun had said something in response to ten telling him just a tiny snippet of something he was feeling, and it was like a dam had burst. kun unlocked something, and ten just became a waterfall of thoughts and fears and emotions. over the past two months ten had let bits of that tangled ball of grey negativity in his brain out to kun, setting them free one by one, at a pace he didn’t even realise he was setting himself. 

until he’d finally broken, and something had let go of everything, the tears flushing it out like the way vomit flushes out sickness. something snapped, and as ten sits there, tears pouring down his cheeks, kun wraps his arms round him and tells him everything will be okay, and, for some reason - 

_ten believes him._

kun isn’t a magical cute boy who can cure depression simply with his dashing smile. but he was a fresh pair of ears and eyes who came at just the right time, who listened, and didn’t ever have a negative reaction to anything ten confided in him. he smiles, reassured him, and simply let ten talk. he became a sound board for ten to throw things at, to set things free, and all he had to do was sit there, in silence, with a soft, comforting smile, and hug ten when he was done. 

all kun had to be was _be there._

*

it’s not an instant fix, and ten isn’t ‘better’ after that night, but he _does_ text his friends and ask to meet up. he asks them not to ask about what happened, or why he disappeared and didn’t want to see them, but to simply spend the evening with him watching movies. they do, despite some clear curiosity and worry. 

it takes time for him to get into the habit of talking to them again, of going out to see them, of sleeping at normal times and not for 2 hours one night then 10 the next. it takes time, but kun only has to give him a nudge here and there, suggest he try something, and let ten make his own decisions. 

kun may not be magic, but he knew what ten needed when no one else did. 

ten learns that by isolating himself and throwing himself into his dance and nothing else he only made things worse for himself. he figure out, eventually, that talking to his friends can help, that it’s not selfish, and that friends are there to confide in. even with his friend group mostly back to normal, ten make room for kun in the group, and his friends, realising that without him they may have never gotten ten back, welcome him with open arms. 

that’s where ten’s story ends. even though he’s not entirely okay, even though it’s still hard for him to feel things, for him to get excited, or disappointed, he’s managed to find the happiness he’d lost, even if the times he feels it are few and far between. he knows now where he went wrong, and what he can do to help himself, and with his friends by his side he knows he can get better, even if it takes a while. 

ten stands and acts as he works to rebuild his life. he sets one foot after the other and keeps going, even when times get hard, because he knows now that he is loved, and that being open about his struggles, about the times when his insides begin to crack and splinter, isn’t being selfish. 

it’s never wrong to let people know when you’re not doing okay. 

it took just one person to help him realise that, but in the end, he was the person who helped himself, and he always had the power to, he just needed a nudge in the right direction.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for taking the time to read this. if you've struggled with anything even similar to the feelings ten has gone through in this please consider speaking to someone - talking about it always helps. 
> 
> if you are feeling suicidal please call the [crisis hotline number for your country](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/qindery/)


End file.
